An Affair with a Stranger
by Blaineley
Summary: Kyle works at the store. A strange man begins to write to him. It's a translation of a Russian fic "Роман с незнакомцем" by Bastet Seimoore.


I rarely thought of life as frankly shit. But this was how it seemed to me now. While Stan and his football team were having a match in Brazil (with coconut palms, beaches and dances in their spare time), and Kenny was sailing through the Atlantic on some fishing boat (no doubt enjoying the romantic marine life and sharing his ancestral material with the charming islanders), I had to waste my time as a cashier in a store in the sleeping area. In the commercial college I went to, every student had to get practical experience in trade – and here I am, stuck for a month and a half while the majority of students enjoyed the holidays.

But life wasn't shit because of that practice. I didn't have any troubles with the cash register. There were almost no people, and it was easy for me, a big boy, to serve one or two customers coming here once in half an hour. And it was extremely hot here, especially in my room which smelled of detergents – I just had to fight the urge to take off my shirt and breath through the half-open window like a dog.

This depressed perception of the world was also facilitated by the fact that I felt impossibly lonely. Sometimes I just wanted to take a linen cord from the shelf, make a loop and leave the world… Calling Stan was very expensive, we only occasionally exchanged texts and emails, Kenny was out of range, I couldn't even guess where he was at that time… I used to date with Bebe two months ago. Yeah, we could call and chat as we're still studying together after all. But she broke up with me about two months ago. If falling in love is when you want a person to always be there, then I was definitely in love. And she wasn't. I don't know why she was dating to me – maybe she was just comfortable with me – I was trying to protect her from everything because we were in a new place together… But she got used to it, got acquainted with everybody and found a new boyfriend – a rich boy with a cool car. I had a fight with him in the first week of the college. I felt like a hero of a shitty novel, a supportive character, a simple guy with "good heart", who accompanies a girl her whole life, but when there is a hot guy, she realizes that she's not able to resist these feelings, and a secondary character is left with a guilty "sorry" and a bunch of nostalgic pictures… It seems, in the novels my character has to commit suicide or become an asshole because of the suffering and to put a spoke in the wheel of the invincible couple…

But I made my peace. I'm more hands-on. It is believed that a broken heart heals after three months. I had just over a month of rehabilitation left, so for now I felt miserable, pathetic, unnecessary and disastrously lonely. I felt like to go to the roof of a high-rise building, turn my face to all the winds and sing "Ode to Solitude", or any of the hundreds of songs that glorify this feeling, familiar to everyone. I think you will understand me if I say that my pain was universal, and I was sure that no one in the world experienced such suffering as I did. That's probably why it happened. I needed attention. I felt so sorry for myself that it all seemed to me what I deserved. I was ready to go on any crazy adventure, just to drive the feelings for Bebe out of my heart. So I'm not going to suffer remorse or shame… But let's start from the beginning. I remember I was doing inventory when I got the first message. I was hyper bored and because of the numbers I have dazzled the eyes. I yawned every minute, taking another detergent from the shelf and peering into the depths of the commodity deposits. The buzzing phone in my pocket was a great excuse to have a break – I expected it to be a message from Stan, Ike or at least a mobile operator. But seeing an unfamiliar number, I was somewhat puzzled. Still, it was better than a text about the network or recharging my phone.

With some curiosity, I switched on my old clamshell phone and opened the blinking envelope.

_"Good morning, Kyle. I thought you looked really good behind the counter. Money suits you. They're as green as your eyes. It seems symbolic to me. How much can I buy you for?"_

After reading this message, I felt a little flattered. But this was quickly replaced by the realization that perhaps it was a guy texting me and that he was probably one of the crazy junkies who sometimes came to my store for condoms. One of them hinted in no uncertain terms at any particular pastime with him if I expressed a desire, for which he was rewarded with my murderous look and the absence of a "please" when counting change. How he knew my name and phone number was a secondary question. The last sentence amused me the most. If he only had enough money for the cheapest condoms, I wonder where he'd get the money for someone as so expensive as me? Of course, I had not thought about how much I would cost – but if I was asked head-on, I think I would not trifle in such things. At least a million. In pure gold.

I liked the message as it forced me to distract from the tedious work but I felt that answering it is below my dignity.

The second one I got around lunchtime. I was gloomily munching on a salad and sandwich in the café of nearest the store. And my thoughts were as dreary as yesterday and the day before. They were mostly about Bebe. About the fact that she's working in a store with licensed discs, the fact that I have to fight the urge to go there and see her. Most likely her boyfriend will hire someone to beat me up just for that. Besides, it would only stir up my "terrible wound", which barely had time to heal and could begin to bleed from any touch. When my phone alerted me to a new message, I paused before opening it. Another text from a stupid junky was the last thing I wanted to see right now.

_"I watch you eat. I didn't think anyone could do it as beautifully as you. Do you want me to buy you something?"_

After this message, I began to look at all visitors of the cafe. There were few of them, all strangers to me, and none of them looked at me. Only one girl smiled when I met her with my eyes, but she was with a friend and seemed more interested in talking to her. None of the men in the cafe had a phone in their hands, and none looked like someone who could write that.

Since I was sitting by the open window, I could easily be observed from the street. Opposite the café was a fairly busy supermarket and parking lot. Maybe "my junky" watching me from his car – I decided. But how he was going to buy me anything then?

Before I could think about it, a waitress came noiselessly to my table.

"Your order is fully paid," she informed me.

"By whom?" I asked immediately.

She shrugged vaguely.

"Would you like anything else?" she smiled politely as she handed him the menu.

I shook my head.

"Any your order will be paid", kindly informed the girl.

"Who is this man?" I demanded.

"I can't say," she again stretched her red lips into a smile.

"All right," I said vindictively. After all, I doubted it could have been that janky guy from the store, he couldn't have afforded the luxury of paying for strangers' lunches.

I took the menu and ordered the most expensive dish the had – some kind of oysters or snails… it's kind of surprising that they even served shellfish – this place was still for people with average incomes. When my order was brought to me, I stirred the contents of the dish with a mixture of malice and satisfaction, without taking a bite. Shellfish are not kosher, and frankly I have never and the desire to taste them.

After that I left the café and headed back to the store for my workplace with the firm believe that my strange admirer wouldn't forgive such a waste of his money.

I was glad when my phone made a muffled sound. I took it out of my pocket and read:

_"It was very kind of you to take advantage of my offer. I think it's the nicest thing I've ever seen. Are you offended?"_

I stopped in the middle of the road. More offensive to me was some condescending and patronizing tone of the message than the fact that he bought me to eat. I suppose I'm curious. So far I had the impression that my admirer is quite an adult man. And not everyone will be able to take the risk to offer someone at random to order anything after all… What if I ordered everything? Wrap it up and deliver it to my apartment… Crap, I could order everything, why didn't I think of that? Well, I haven't the faintest inkling of the identity of the mysterious stranger. So I decided it was time to ask:

_"Who are you?"_ this was my first message to him, and I thought it would be my last.

"_Let me explain the rules to you first. I don't answer questions. I only ask them."_

What the fuck? What rules? Is this a fucking role-play game? Honest, I don't like weirds and freaks. Due to that I try not to communicate with such people. I think it's not worth to mention that I've decided to ignore this weird guy from now on.

It was quite difficult. I was receiving the messages once in 20 minutes. Until the day of the working day, I fulfilled my vow and stubbornly ignored this guy. Yes, I opened them, yes, I read them. But the fact that I didn't answers them seemed to me a sufficient expression of my indifference.

"_If I had a chance, I would sit you in front of me and just watch to see everything – every line. And if I were an artist, I would paint your portraits endlessly. But wouldn't sell any."_

"_I would like to stand at the entrance and give each of your customers a flower, so that they overwhelmed you with them to waist. But I can't do that, because then you'll see me."_

"_I wish your store had a radio. I would order the most beautiful songs for you, like Kelly Clarkson's "Because of you". You put my whole life on the background. If you were a religion, I would be your mist faithful clergyman."_

"_I saw you eating ice cream once. Kyle, don't do that again. Eat It at home. It's porn in public."_

"_Near the supermarket some fanatic says that the end of the world will be in 2012. I don't believe it will be, because the world can't collapse while you're alive."_

Well, I only gave you examples of some of them. I was amused the message about the ice cream, because the last time I ate it, it was melting in the heat, and I must have looked like a stupid, holding it at arm's length so as not to stain my jeans – what I could do so erotic, it was a mystery to me. I was sure that he would get bored, but after the fifth hour of bombardment with such messages, I involuntarily began to admire this man - I would run out of imagination after the third one ... Lucky dude, he's probably surrounded by girls all the time.

At the end of my working day I received the following:

_"I can call a taxi for you."_

I don't want someone to take me anywhere (forest for example), rob me and tie to the tree leaving me after that only in my underwear. (I recently read about this incident in the newspaper.) The amazing thing was that this guy didn't seem to know what to do with his time and money.

Closing my store, I left the building by the back door. I went home in a roundabout way, because I was sure that this Bruce Williss syndrome patient was sitting in the car and watching the main entrance, waiting for me. I didn't want him to know where I lived, or I wouldn't have been surprised to see a late – night visitor climbing to the sixth floor.

At home I decided to take a bath because this stupid day has exhausted me completely. I didn't want to load my brain with anything. In the bathroom, my longing for Bebe came back. I wanted to call her, I could ask her how she was doing with the practice – she complained that she was afraid to work with the cash register. Sometimes she's so naive – what if she counts the money wrong? Besides in such stores people often steal discs... Oh, well, her boyfriend will probably eliminate all her problems, pay for all the shortcomings, right?

God, money rules the world. What can't they buy? It turns out that it is a very shitty world, if there're such rules.

But Bebe doesn't date with him because of his money – she's not like that. She likes romance. Was she just bored with me? But I tried to make everything beautiful. Am I not good enough?...

Needless to say, after another session of self-flagellation, I got out of the bathroom gloomier than a dark cloud? When I returned to the room, my phone was ringing. I think they called me more than once.

When I looked at the number, something inside me tickled with a pleasant sense of anticipation. It was my stranger. Without thinking, I pressed the phone to my ear.

"Hello", I demanded, staring blindly ahead of me. I'm going to hear who it is.

Silence.

"Oh, you're not so talkative now," I said sarcastically.

The stranger didn't appreciated my malice.

"So, are you going to say something or not?" my voice sounded almost resentfully.

Since I was still being listened to, I decided to explain everything to him.

"Look, I have no idea who are you, and I congratulate you on that, but I'm not into that kind of idiocy. Stop sending me these messages, and look for someone else – there're a lot of role-players nowadays. I can't appreciate your efforts because I like girls. I hope we understand each other."

The stranger was silent, as it seemed to me, mockingly.

"Thank you for your eloquence, goodbye," and I ended the call.

I don't think you'd be surprised to hear that I got a new message a minute later, and I went to the kitchen put the kettle on before read it.

_"I've never heard anything so pleasant as your voice. I wish it lasted more than a minute and 13 seconds. But it was the most beautiful moment of the day. It's like we're almost together."_

"Freak," I said, dropping the phone on the bed and returning to the kitchen.

Again I thought that it had cheered me up after thinking about Bebe. It's as if I'm still of interest to anyone - even if it's some weird man with manic tendencies.

I watched TV, but the stranger didn't stop sending me messages. And when I went to bed, I fell asleep after reading the last one:

"_I hope you will see the sweetest dreams so tomorrow you will smile. Goodnight, Kyle."_


End file.
